The Thing
by robotmonarchy
Summary: "When are you ever going to say the real thing?" Chris muffled out in between burger bites. (Fluff;Buddyshipping;crossposted from AO3)


" **W** hen are you ever going to say the real thing?" Chris muffled out in between burger bites. It's one of those lazy afternoons at Burgerphile. Sunlight was pouring itself through the restaurant's windows, the place quiet from there being no other customers. It was nice, Chris thought, not Arizona nice, but nice. They were able to see each other clearly, and before he decided to speak, enjoy a silence that wasn't plagued by Dan's ranting. So far, Dan has been content to methodically open ketchup packet after ketchup packet. Chris stares blankly at Dan, taking note of his concentration, and wondering if he even processed his question. Chris wondered if he processed his own question.

"What thing?" Dan asks back, breaking Chris' thoughts as he drowns his burger in the ketchup.

"The _thing_ , thing." Chris answers immediately. The Thing. It's very vague, but he trusts, or rather, hopes that Dan knows what he's talking about. It was only hours before where he said The Thing himself. Again.

 _"Do you really mean of all this?" Dan questioned, eyes wide as he had just finished reading the card in his hand. It was far different than the reaction Chris had anticipated. (Which was something along the lines of having the card thrown in his face.)  
"Every time." Chris replied. He suddenly felt truly giant over this Dan. This Dan that was staring back at him in total awe, brief suspicion, and confusion. But these were the rare moments that Dan was the most open. He liked this this Dan. He tried then not to flinch at his friend's gaze. It could also be disconcerting how unaccustomed Dan was to any of this. To honesty. Niceness. Affection. It made Chris worry about Dan even more. But he was saved by Dan's sudden discomfort, who then looked everywhere in his apartment except at Chris. Fiddling with his card, Dan mutters, "Thanks, I…I… feel warmly towards you too." When Chris remained silent, Dan finally said, "Let's go eat." _

Dan begins glowering at his burger, like it betrayed him. The cheeseless fiend. "Never." He answers, after placing his burger down and crossing his arms. He had no vendettas to go after today, and Dan actually thought this could be the beginning of a genuinely good day. He was wrong.

Chris sighed. So it's gonna be like that. "Dan, it's been years, and I've even said it first. Dozens of times."

The shorter man rolls his eyes, "So? I didn't know I had to meet some form of _intimacy_ quota! That's very capitalist of you. Chris, I'm very disappointed in you."

"No its not!" Chris protests. He's not even sure what that means, but he's offended. "I'm very non-capitalist!"

"Communist!" Dan spats like acid, banging his fists on the table.

"Wha? I-" Sigh. Dan. This is Dan. Nothing makes sense. "All you have to do is say it once. That's all I'm asking. Please? _Please_?"

His companion becomes quiet, sulking in his seat. Chris thinks he can win him over with what? Begging? Puppy dog eyes? Well. He had another thing coming! Dan spends another moment staring down his burger before glancing at Chris.

"What's wrong with how I usually say it?"

"Oohh nothing!" Chris raises a hand, waving it away into sarcasm. "But you know what is wrong? You say The Thing more to your cat instead of me!"  
Dan pounces at the table. "YOU LEAVE OUT OF THIS!" Mr. Mumbles was a cat of innocence, a feline that deserved all showers of affection and attention.

"ARGH!" Chris groans and is grateful to being the only patrons in the restaurant again. (Though the cashier looks nervous.) "I hate you." Chris slides into his booth, defiantly crossing his arms back.

"No you don't." Dan replies quickly. Smugly, he sits back into his seat too, with his eyes closed in victory. He clearly won this argument. He didn't know quite how he managed to win it, but now…Dan holds his burger, finally feeling safe to dine.

"I don't." Chris admits, but then adds, "But I still want you to say it."

Dan groans theatrically and sets his burger down once again. "Give me one good reason why I should say it!"

Chris raises a hand to stroke his chin and think. "It's Valentine's Day?" He replies sheepishly, voice high at the mere hope that Dan believed in the holiday.

Dan scoffs, "Ha!" Like he needed to follow some commercialized, human sheep infested, outdated—

"Fine." Chris pouts, nearing defeat. Dan appeared calm again, while Chris had to simmer about not getting what he wants. _Again._ Until that is, he remembers how much Dan has been wanting to eat that stupid burger. "Then I won't be buying you this lunch. Or the one after that. Or the one after-"

"You wouldn't." Dan glowers at Chris. He never liked being threatened.

Nodding vigorously, "I would." He stretches down over the table to meet Dan's eyes. Dan's face is staring him down only a few inches away. Chris pretends to glare back, hoping that the sweat on his forehead doesn't betray his anxiety. Why was it always so hard to confront Dan?

Dan's face contorts between tooth grinding rage and calculation. At some point he clenches the table and makes it tremble, hating that he's about to say yes to something that is so human, so disgustingly _feelsy_ , so, so- "I feel warmly towards you?" He tries his cop out meekly.

"Dan!" Chris yells.

"ARRRGGHHH!" Dan inhales and becomes small in his seat again. He really didn't want to do this. Not in a million years. Not in a billion years. Dan briefly considers escape, but he's not a rich man, could he really afford the risk of never having Burgerphile lunch again?

"I-I-I-" Each article, a choke in his voice. Chris only looks at Dan patiently. "LO…VE…" Dan utters. Each syllable was like acid. In his mind, came a rush of rancid memories of failure, embarrassment, of things that should be burned and have its carcass shipped to hell and back. What was this feeling he was having anyway? It had better **not** be vulnerability!

Is that a vein in his forehead? Has that word 'LOVE' ever even scratched his voice box? These are the questions that plague Chris, as he looks at Dan agonizing over his first love confession.

"YOU!" Dan breathes. He collapses on the table. He's spent. Chris looks at his corpse and is only vaguely concerned.

"There! That wasn't so bad!" Chris chips, strangely happy at these turn of events.

"Stop talking." he drawls. Dan wanted to eliminate his body for even being close to any real emotion other than rage.

Chris pays no mind to the warning. "Hey, you know," he approaches, "did you ever think that if you said it more, that it would be easi-" He is interrupted by a ketchup burger thrown directly onto his face. The burger slides down slowly, revealing Chris' tired, red, expression.

 **"Hey, did you ever think it would be easier if you'd _shut up_?" ** And Dan's gone, out the door. He abandons Chris to his own ketchuppy demise. The Jerk deserves it, Dan figures, for having the audacity to demand affection on Valentine's Day.

The tall man sighs. "Hey, Cashier? Extra napkins please."

* * *

After cleaning his face in the bathroom sink, Chris, admittedly, does not want to leave Burgerphile. Through the restaurant windows, he can see Dan waiting by the car, tapping his foot and simmering likely in another pool of his own bitterness. Dan is muttering something to himself, to the car, and Chris' stomach drops when he thinks Dan is about to shout to the sky. But instead, Dan decides to shout after Chris, cuing his time to man up and face the fact that he's involved with the Most Complicated Man on the Planet.

And that thought makes Chris pause. A certain warmth envelops his insides as realization slowly settles inside him. The taller man hums as he walks his way pass Dan and into his car seat, willfully paying no mind the shorter man's confused expression.

When Chris drives them back home, Dan now a different kind of quiet. Dan chooses to look out through the window. The man's small frame is even more tense and stoic than usual. Chris genuinely wonders if he should have anxiety over the fact Dan's avoided eye contact, conversation, and general proximity. But he doesn't. Instead Chris happily prods, "Hey Dan."

Dan doesn't say anything, he just grunts in response.

"I love you too." Chris says soothingly and tries to look sincere even though he could be angering an unhinged man while driving. He feels rewarded when he sees his friend's frame visibly relax.

Dan turns quickly towards Chris. He's shocked. Confused. Suspicious. But as usual, more touched than anything else. Dan isn't sure if he's okay with having some of these emotions become more familiar to him. "….Of course you do. I'm awesome. Now turn on the radio."

Chris smiles, and complies. After all, not even Dan's bossiness can ruin the fact he just got the Most Complicated Man on the Planet to admit he was in love with him.


End file.
